Terror of the Two Part Tragedy
by DemonClowSorceress
Summary: Yet another installment in the BonesBooth Daughter series! Joy and Kent are back, baby! Can be read alone, but is set after The Daughter in the Dangerous Case. No main character death, so don't worry!
1. Chapter 1

**The Terror of the Tennis Champ (Part One of Two)**

**By: DemonClowSorceress**

Disclaimer: Only the OC's are mine. Everything else from **_Bones_** is not owned by me. Dammit.

Yet another installment in the BonesBooth Daughter series! Joy and Kent are back, baby!

Summery: Colton High School's champ tennis ace Gina Riverton is being harrassed and stalked. Can Joy help the teenage star before the stalker goes too far?

* * *

**~Colton High School, Monday, 7:00 A.M.~**

Gina Riverton stretched as far as she could bend forward, then lifted her leg up behind her with her hand. Championships were coming up soon, and she had to be in peak physical condition for the upcoming games. They would be grueling and a challenge, since aces from all over the country would be competing. But then again, Gina loved a challenge.

Finishing her warm-up stretches, Gina started up the tennis ball launcher and took her position. POOM! A green tennis ball came pelting towards her. With a solid backhand she sent it shooting into the chain-link fence. POOM! And another. POOM! And another. As the balls kept coming, Gina bounced and bobbed all over her side of the court to send each fuzzy green sphere back to whence it came.

She was so focused on her training that she failed to notice the shadow skulking around the tennis court. She also didn't hear the click-click-click of a camera as the shadow moved.

But Gina did hear the bloodcurdling scream when it came from the bushes by the back corner of the courts. She jumped in shock. Turning to face the noise, she gripped her tennis racket close and edged towards the fence. Another rustle of the bushes, and she screamed herself when a flaming body fell from the foliage and onto the green, burning on the court like an out-of-control wildfire.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Joy Booth groaned when she saw the police cars parked in front of her high school. "Really? Today of all days? Fan-effing-tastic."

Spying her best friend and cousin Emily, Joy waved. "Yo! Li!"

"I've told you before, stop calling me Li!" said the other girl, coming up to Joy. Resembling her mother more than her father, Emily Fortune Hodgins clearly had some Chinese features, as evident by her glossy black hair and smooth skin. However, her eyes were all her father's, a pretty blue that never failed to make boys continue to stare long after she had passed by.

Joy pasted a fake frown to her face. "But why? You're part Chinese, so it's appropriate."

"Only my daddy can call me Li!" Emily put her hands on her hips and smirked. "What about you, Joy-Joy?"

"Okay, okay, I get it, no parental pet names," Joy surrendered. She glanced back at the black-and-whites parked in front of the gym. "Hey, wasn't the big jock prank last night?"

Emily tapped her chin with one French-tipped nail in thought. "Um.....yeah, yeah it was! Why?" Before the last word left her mouth Joy had whipped out her phone and almost crushed a number on her speed-dial. "Oh c'mon Boothie, don't you think he's matured enough not to - "

"KENT, YOU EGOTISTICAL SONNUVAWIMP! PICK IT UP NOW!!" Joy's voice echoed from behind the two girls, startling them both. "I MEAN IT! PICK IT UP BEFORE I SLAM MY FOOT INTO YOUR FACE SO HARD YOUR BRAINS LIQUIFY!"

Joy turned and saw Kent walking towards them, holding his phone at arm's length like it was contaminated. His ringtone continued to shriek at him, repeating the threat until he declined the call. Then he yawned to pop his ears and saluted the girls. "Morning!"

"Don't 'morning' me, you idiot!" Joy leveled a finger at the cop cars while lowering her voice. "Last night was the jock prank! You were there, weren't you? And why is that your ringtone?!"

Kent smiled a hello at Emily before answering Joy. "In order, yes it was, no I wasn't, although there was an annonymous 911 call to the cops around that time, and because my phone was recording when you told me to pick up my soda can after I was done with it."

"You were littering in a park! That's a crime!"

"I didn't litter! The can bounced off the rim of the trash can when I tried for a three-pointer!"

The two friends continued to bicker childishly as Emily looked on with her own grin. Joy Booth and Tyler Kent were her two best friends and they were closer than any couple she'd ever seen before, except maybe her parents. Of course, they weren't actually a couple. True, they bickered like old married people, but it was a strictly platonic friendship. At least at the moment. Emily was sure that pretty soon all those repressed hormones would come crashing through their thick skulls and flood their brains so fast they'd jump each other in public.

Her mother's words, not Emily's. Angela Montenegro was always very eloquent when it came to people's love lives.

Flipping her glossy hair out of her eyes, Emily caught sight of a white tennis uniform by one of the police cruisers. "Um, guys? Guys? GUYS!" When they didn't pay any attention to her, she filled her lungs with air and yelled, "Bi zui, bai chi!"*

Joy and Kent jumped in shock. Kent's green eyes were wide in shock. "Such language," he murmured.

"You don't even know what I said," Emily replied. "Anyway, look over there. Isn't that the school ace?"

Joy looked over. "Gina Riverton? Why're the cops talking to her?" She didn't know Gina very well, but the sophomore tennis champ was her lab partner in Honors Biology. Curious, she headed over to the cruiser with Kent and Emily not far behind.

Gina was talking when they came up. "......and then I heard the scream just before the body fell. I screamed. Someone ran off towards the back parking lot like a rabbit, so I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and dialed 911."

"Did you touch the body?" the cop asked.

Gina shook her head. "Are you kidding me? It was burning and I could see bones sticking out of the - the - Ohmigod," she gasped, clutching her stomach and turning to throw up on the grass, narrowly missing the officer's shoes.

_Bones? Horrificly burned remains? Sounds like a job for..... _Joy looked and spotted the Jeffersonian coronor's truck and her father's black FBI standard-issue SUV. _Yup. Mom and Dad are on the case._

"Joy?" Gina looked over towards the freshman and hurriedly ran over to her. There were specks of blood on her white uniform - cast-off spatter from when the body landed in front of her, Joy thought unconsciously, gleaning from forensic knowledge gleaned from years of listening to her parents and aunts and uncles in the lab. "Joy, what's going on? The FBI is here and nobody's telling me anything and I think I hurt my arm when I tripped and hit my shoulder on the ground when I was running and - "

"Okay, calm down, Gina," Joy said, holding the girl's shoulders gently but firmly. "Breathe. Don't worry. Did the victim look familiar?"

"I didn't exactly take a snapshot on my Blackberry," Gina said breathlessly. "But it was wearing a school blazer. I saw the horseshoe on the chest."

"Horseshoe," Joy repeated. "So, it's a student here at Colton." She gently touched Gina's shoulder and felt the girl wince. "Okay, I think you just bruised your shoulder. Just go to the ambulance and let them check it out, okay?"

She left Gina sobbing with Emily and began walking towards the tennis courts, aware of Kent keeping in step behind her. The entrance to the tennis courts was taped off with crime scene tape, but Joy didn't need to get too close.

Her mother, Dr. Temperance Brennan, knelt beside the disfigured remains in her blue Jeffersonian jumpsuit and was tilting her head this way and that, examining the remains like a person would examine a work of art. On the other side of the remains, Dr. Camille Saroyan was likewise scrutinizing the damage the fire had done to the corpse. But instead of appreciating the work, they were working to determine how the work was done and who had done it.

"Joy, get back to class."

The sound of her father's voice made Joy turn around. Kent was trying very hard to be in FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth's line of sight, while Booth was still ignoring Kent despite the boy's spiky hair being just above his eye level. The amount of testosterone in the air was almost stifling, making Joy roll her eyes at all the masculine grandstanding.

Of course Booth had been angry at Kent for leaving her during the hostage incident at the Jeffersonian last month. Temperance had forgiven Kent, saying that he had acted in a logical manner, but her husband's love for their daughter made him less forgiving. Despite all of Joy's reasonings and explainations, Booth was still very angry. So he'd taken to ignoring Kent whenever the teenage boy was nearby. Meanwhile, in a very obvious manner, Kent continued to insert himself into Booth's sightline whenever possible.

"Booth!" Temperance's call broke the tension in the air. "Come over here. This is extremely interesting."

Joy waited until her father left before slugging Kent's shoulder. "You dork! Cut it out!"

"He started it," Kent grumbled childishly.

"And I'm ending it!" she retorted.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

The three friends went to the Jeffersonian straight after school. As they entered the lab their bickering could be heard across the length and width of the entire area:

"You dumbass!"

"You pansy!"

"I'll be flyin' high while you're serving me drinks at the club, Booth!"

"With your luck, you'll be working the corner when I drive by in my Bentley!"

Angela Montenegro laughed as the teens approached the forensic platform. "Trading insults again, little girls?" She put her fists on her hips in a mocking serious stance as she smiled at Joy. "What have I told you about playfighting? Only in front of the boys and if you can get a slam-dunk." She punctuated the statement with a huge, flirty wink at Kent.

"Well, the day began with such promise," Emily said, waiting until her mother walked off the platform before giving her a kiss on the cheek. "There was juicy gossip about cheerleaders, lunch was pizza and brownies, I aced my English paper - and oh yeah, someone was found horrifically murdered on the tennis courts just before first bell," she said in the same chipper tone used for the previous announcements.

Angela sighed. "Yeah, Mr. Horrific is over there on the examination table, de-fleshed." Joy craned her neck to see her mother and Aunt Cam peering at the bones of the victim as Angela turned her attention on the token male in their group. "Oh my gosh! Kentie! You're looking super-cute as usual."

Kent grinned as he recieved a hug from Angela. "You saw me three days ago, Miss Angela. And why can't Squint be as happy to see me every day?"

"Don't call me Squint!" Joy burst out.

Emily shared a look with her mother. "Ni hao, ma ma."**

"Ni hao." Angela led the three teens into her office. Picking up a digital remote and inputing the data she had just collected, she turned to the 3D holographic projector affectionately called "The Angelator." Turning to Kent, she said, "This baby makes it so easy to reconstruct faces. All I have to do is input the tissue depth markers and voila!" She tapped her screen and caused a shower of golden pixels to spiral and reform into a skull.

"I always wish I had popcorn for this," Joy admitted as layers of muscles, flesh and skin formed on the skull.

But when the face made itself known, all three teenagers' jaws dropped. Emily began muttering in Chinese under her breath, sounding scared out of her mind. Angela looked at them in confusion, then back at the face. "What? You know the victim?"

"That's Brent Henderson," Kent said woodenly, staring at the revolving holographic face of their classmate. "He's a sophomore. He's going steady with Gina Riverton."

"Zao gao."*** Everyone turned to face Emily. She shook her head back and forth. "Not anymore. They broke up last week. And it was messy."

Joy looked at Brent's face. Her face began to form a familiar expression - half-closed eyes, head tilted to the right, mouth slightly pursed and open. "So," she said slowly, "this means that Gina's a suspect."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Ohmigod, that was - that - was BRENT!?"

Gina's breathless shriek was decidedly anti-climactic, Booth thought. Sitting across from the tennis ace, he pretended to read the open file in front of him while gauging her reaction. It seemed authentic, but sometimes they were very good actors. And that's why he had Sweets positioned behind the two-way mirror to offer his professional opinion.

_Well, for a sixteen-year-old_, Booth thought with a mental smirk. He never lost a chance at taking a jab at Sweet's baby face. "Miss Riverton, when was the last time you saw Brent Henderson before this morning?"

Gina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, clearing her throat. "Um, maybe three days ago? We have fifth period English together." More tears spilled from her eyes. "I-I mean, we had - " Emotion overcame her and she buried her face in her hands.

"Who knew you'd be at the tennis courts this morning?"

She sniffed noisily. "My parents, Coach Williams, Br - " A choke stopped her from saying the victim's name, but she pressed on. "And Brent. He knew I trained on Mondays that early."

Sweet's voice came into Booth's ear via the earbud. _"Those are real tears, Booth. She's not crocodile-ing out there. She's truly emotionally distraught over this news."_

"Miss Riverton, could you think of anyone who would want to hurt Brent?" Booth asked. So she wasn't faking. Next jump: suspect pool.

Gina again wiped her eyes dry. Mascara was smearing around her eyes, making her resemble a drowned raccoon. Grimacing, Booth offered a tissue. "Thanks," she whispered, taking it to dab at her eyes. "Well, I'm the tennis ace. All the girls hate me because they think their boyfriends will leave them for me. And after last week, all the guys wanted to be my next Brent."

"Yeah, you two broke up," Booth remarked, looking at his file. "It wasn't clean and nice either, was it?"

"Well, we decided to see other people, but - wait, are you saying that I killed Brent?" Rather than be angry at the accusation, she was appalled. "I could never do that!"

_"She's telling the truth, Booth," _came Sweet's backseat interrogating. _"She didn't kill him. There's too much honesty in her body language and vocal patterns."_

_"Not to mention it's impossible." _Booth had to stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief when his wife's dulcet tone filtered into his ear. _"Brent Henderson was severely assaulted just prior to his death. The fractures indicate it was done by a person much larger and stronger than Miss Riverton."_

Gina muttered something under her sobs, but Booth was too busy listening to Temperance to catch it. "What was that?"

She started, then swallowed. "I just said that, well......" She sniffed several times to clear her nose of phlegm. "The real reason we broke up was..........because someone was stalking me. He threatened to hurt Brent if I didn't break up with him. I told Brent, and we agreed to do it publicly so the guy would know." Her bloodshot eyes welled with even more tears as she touched the picture of Brent on the table. "But he's still dead. And it's all my fault," she sobbed, her voice cracking twice before descending into tears again.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Poor Gina," Emily said the next day, leaning against her locker as Joy got out her Calculus textbook. "I mean, she broke up with Brent to protect him, but he still ends up dead. That's tragic."

Joy nodded, only half-listening. Her mind was still back on the stalker. Even though her father had expressly forbidden her from sleuthing (_Who uses the word sleuthing? I'm not Nancy Drew_, she'd thought during his lecture the previous evening) Joy couldn't leave this alone. It was her classmate, her lab partner, and a somewhat-friend. Nobody deserved the panic of checking over your shoulder every minute to see if the shadows are coming alive.

So that day in Honors Biology, she slipped a note to Gina, simply stating, _I want to help you._

_How? _was the eloquent reply.

Joy pretended to scribble notes as she wrote her answer. _You told my dad the stalker threatened to hurt Brent if you two didn't break up. How did he threaten you?_

Gina wrote quickly. _A note shoved in my locker. But the FBI have already seen it._

_Do you still have it?_

_Yes._

_May I see it?_

"Okay everyone, start the lab," their teacher said, clapping his hands. Immediately the room filled with clinking glass and chatter. Joy crumpled up their correspondence and caught Gina's subtle nod before they became engrossed with their experiment.

After class, Gina took Joy to her locker. Joy noted that the tennis ace's space was immaculate, her books being in perfect order of height and subject, four star stickers on her locker walls, and two pictures of the famous tennis-playing sisters (Joy couldn't remember celebrity names to save her life) on the inside of the door. Gina extracted a folded piece of paper from her locker shelf and handed it to Joy. "This is the note."

Joy unfolded the paper and read the following words, written in permanant marker and bold print:

**_You're not making use of your full potential, Gina. _**

**_You're going on useless dates when you should be honing your skills. _**

**_Get rid of the boy toy or he'll be next on my list. _**

**_I'll know if you don't._**

"I'll know if you don't....." Joy repeated aloud, musing. "This means he's able to keep track of your movements. Did you show this to anyone else?"

"Brent, my parents, Coach," Gina said, wringing her hands. "My parents thought it wasn't a good idea, but Brent said we should. He was worried about me....." A fresh tear slid from her eye, but she impatiently batted it away. "Well, at least I'm wearing waterproof mascara this time. I felt like a dork with that raccoon mask in front of your dad."

Joy reread the note. "It says, next on his list. Has he hurt anyone else before?"

Gina sniffed noisily. "Yeah. My puppy, Scooter. He was hit by a car a few weeks ago and we had to put him down. A note was left - Distraction Eliminated. It was right before I began training for semi-finals."

"So, he's trying to make you focus on your tennis playing....." Joy felt the impressions on the paper that weren't made by the marker. "Hey, can I borrow this?"

"Why?" Gina asked, crossing her arms as she looked over the top of the paper to read the note again. "What is it?"

The young Booth shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe nothing, but......lemme check a hunch."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Why are you in my house to conduct your experiments?" Kent yawned, rubbing his eyes clear of sleep when she sat at his desk. "Wait, better question - how the hell did you get in my house?"

"Oh please, that fake rock beside your door wouldn't have fooled no one." Joy switched on the desk lamp and held up Gina's note, examining the paper for any clues. "And I've been coming here since I was seven. You really think I'm that stupid?"

Kent yawned again. "So, what are you doing?"

"Gina's stalker wrote this note telling her to break up with Brent," Joy explained. "I'm thinking the stalker wrote this on a pad. It's legal notepaper. You got a pencil?"

"In the can."

Joy held the pencil slanted, rubbing over the sheet of paper in broad strokes with the side of the graphite. Grooves in the paper began to emerge, and those grooves lined up to form words. Joy held the paper close to her eyes and squinted, turning the sheet clockwise and counter-clockwise.

"Ya know, you're gonna ruin your eyesight doing that." Kent leaned over and grabbed the top of the paper. He looked at it at arm's length and gaped. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. No way."

"What?" Joy asked, turning to face him. A piece of paper fell to the floor, so she leaned down to pick it up. It looked official, so she scanned it unconsciously. Her eyes widened.

"This is the rough draft of an essay. On Lady Macbeth." He sounded shocked. "The AP English class is on Macbeth now, aren't they? The stalker must've written the note on the same pad as his rough draft. He's a student."

Joy nodded. "We could ask Mrs. Grear who did an essay on Lady Macbeth." She had to fight to keep her voice level.

"Okay then. Tomorrow." He gave back the threat and pointed to his door. "Now, if you don't mind? I wanna nap."

"Yeah, sure." Joy left the Kent house and headed home. She bit her lip guiltily when she recalled the words on the official document, the one that she had read that had from Kent's room.

It was a summons to court, a subpeona. His hearing was coming up.

When she got home, Joy immediately went to her father. "Dad, can I ask a question?"

"What?" Watching the game, Booth saw his daughter's worried expression and sat up. "What's the matter, Joy-Joy?"

"Dad......what's the longest a juvie can get for aiding and abetting in a serious crime?" Joy bit her lip. "Specifically.........for working in a chop-shop?"

Temperance entered at precisely that moment, reading the Henderson case file. "Why? Was Brent Henderson part of a group of criminals who disassembled stolen cars?" she asked, looking for the information in the file.

Joy shook her head. "No Mom, but......Kent was."

Booth angrily looked back to his hockey game. "So? He was pardoned."

"I saw an official subpeona on his desk. He's being called back to testify." Joy looked at her mother, since clearly appealing to her father was out of the question. "It's been a year, Mom. Why are they doing this now?"

Temperance shrugged. "Perhaps new evidence has come to light. Maybe one of the higher-ups is trying to appeal out. Whatever the case, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

"Mom, I saw 'revocation of parole' and 'suspended sentancing'." The younger Booth was about ready to cry. "Kent never said anything to me about being on parole. Or being sentanced."

Both females turned to Booth, who was staring very intently at the TV even though the game had gone to commercials. Joy's eyes widened. "Dad?"

Booth didn't reply. He didn't need to. His silence spoke louder than any words.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Why yes, I do know this essay," Mrs. Grear said, pushing her square gold-rimmed glasses up higher on her nose as she read the few sentances. "Very well done, for a first draft. You want Stephen Rudimaker. He had Lady Macbeth as a character study." She raised an eyebrow. "But I already told this to Miss Booth, Mr. Kent."

_Say what? _"Thanks, Mrs. Grear," Kent said, taking his copy of the imprints. Heading out into the hallway, he made for Joy's locker. _Wonder what Squint was thinking. We said we'd ask Grear together, so why did she.....?_

Spying Emily listening to her iPod on a bench, Kent went over and tapped her shoulder. "Hey. You seen Squint today?"

"Kent?" Emily looked surprised to see him. "Um, Joy went to find Gina. She asked Grear about the note.........hey, are you okay? Isn't your thing coming up?"

"Thing? What thing?" But Kent had a horrible feeling in his gut that he knew what thing she was talking about.

"That, um, what's-it-called. Subpeona."

An angry shudder rippled through Kent. "And how would you know anything about something like that?" he asked in a level tone of voice.

"Joy mentioned seeing - " Emily's brain finally caught up with her mouth, shutting off voice while her jaw continued to work dumbly. "Ohmygod, Kent, I didn't know it was a secret. I'm so sor - "

"Where is she?"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Concrete dust and marble chips!"

"Does that mean something, Dr. Hodgins?" Cam Saroyan asked, crossing her arms at the bug and slime expert.

Hodgins preened. "It was in the victim's head wound. Wherever he was killed, he was either killed on a concrete floor with something made of marble or a marble floor with something made of concrete." He deflated a little to shrug. "Probably the former more than the latter."

"Did you tell Booth?" Cam asked out of habit.

"He and Dr. B are checking out the coach now. There were some sexual harassment charges brought against him in 2006 regarding one of his aces." Angela came up onto the platform with Emily in tow. Hodgins smiled at his daughter. "Hey gorgeous and beautiful, what's happening?"

"Dad, I don't think Coach Williams did it," Emily said. "He was at a tournament for the last two weeks with the rest of the tennis team. They didn't get back until today."

"Then why wasn't Gina Riverton with them?" Cam's question was laced with suspicion.

"She pulled a hamstring just before qualifying rounds. She got left behind." The girl twisted a lock of her hair. "Dad.....I think I screwed up. Bad."

Angela stopped him before he could explode. "No, she's not pregnant. She accidentaly let slip that Joy read about Kentie's subpeona."

"A subpeona? For what?"

Emily said, "Kent used to be in a chop-shop crew. They got busted a year ago, but Kent's testimony got him parole instead of jail time. His testimony was sealed, so nobody knew about it except the judge, the prosecutor, and the defense lawyers."

"And he's pissed," Angela added. "I mean, really pissed. Think 'angry dragon post eye-poke' mixed with 'shotgun-toting father with knocked-up teenage daughter' and add a dash of armageddon, and you've got maybe half his level of mad."

The phone rang. Hodgins answered, then hit speaker and returned the phone to the cradle. "You're on speaker."

_"Hey, so that coach didn't do it. He was in Maryland with the rest of the tennis team for a tournament." _Booth sounded tired, and in the background the squints could hear Temperance talking about something completely unrelated to the case. _"But Gina Riverton had to stay behind because she pulled a hamstring two days before the qualifying period."_

"When was the qualifying period?" Cam asked Emily.

The girl had to think for a few seconds, but then her eyes widened. "A week ago. She broke up with Brent just before she hurt herself."

_"That meant the stalker knew."_

Then came Temperance's voice. _"Joy just called. She has a name. Stephen Rudimaker. He wrote the note to Gina Riverton."_

Hodgins called up the name on the computer. "Stephen Rudimaker, 5'5'', a buck-seventy, got a prior for assault - his old man wouldn't stop hitting his mom, so Stephen sent him to the hospital."

"Tough little squirt, huh?" Cam noted, looking at the beefy teen's mug shot.

The tense atmosphere was suddenly shattered by a ringtone of Lady Gaga's "Telephone." With a gasp Emily whipped out her phone and checked it. "I got a text from Joy," she said, opening the message. "Oh, she's feng le. Completely feng le."****

"What?" Angela asked, concerned.

Emily looked up at her mother. "Joy is going with Gina to meet with Stephen for dinner," she said in the tone of voice that most people reserved for complete shock and disbelief.

Booth came back over the speaker. _"Well, we're gonna go pick him up now. Got an address?"_

Sweets suddenly came running up to the group, almost forgetting to swipe onto the platform. "That's not a good idea," he panted. "Most likely he's suffering from a very strong delusion that Gina is in love with him. Most stalkers suffer from this, but in his case he's got a full-blown doozy. Talking him out of it won't work."

_"What d'you mean, Sweets?"_ asked Booth.

"If you disturb or try to break him out of his delusion, the resulting emotional distress would make him extremely dangerous. He could hurt himself or anyone close to him."

There was a muffled curse from Temperance, and the squints could hear Booth's siren switch on and wailing before the line went dead.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Stephen?"

Stephen turned around when he heard the voice of his love. "Gina, you came!" he exclaimed, happy as a puppy. _She's finally here! She's here!_

"I - I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend," Gina said apologetically. "But my parents aren't letting me go out alone anymore."

And in walked Joy Booth.

"Oh.....I said to come alone." Stephen's eyes narrowed slightly, then widened again innocently. _She doesn't know. Gina brought her, so it must be okay. Don't panic._

He bowed low like a gentleman would. "Ladies, welcome. I wasn't expecting another, so let me put another place at the table." He went and got another set of cutlery and plates, placing them across the table from himself.

Gina's place would be beside him. As he'd dreamed of it for months.

Dinner was simple, since Stephen couldn't cook much. But the candles were lit, casting a romantic light over cornbread, pasta, and salad. Stephen felt very proud of himself; he'd managed to tame his unruly brown hair and fit into his old suit. He even found a pair of cufflinks in a local pawnshop and learned how to wear a tie.

Gina wore a simple pink sundress with pearls and a little hairclip to hold her bangs back. Joy wore jeans and a tee.

"Say, I was asking Gina when she and you first met," Joy said conversationally. "When would you say, Stephen?"

He immediately launched into a tale about being at the tryouts earlier in the year, how he'd watched Gina outshine every other player, and having a 'cosmic moment' when she glanced into the stands and right at him.

That was when he had fallen in love.

And that was when he swore to make her the best.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Joy almost gagged then and there, but hid behind a mask of interest. She had read enough of her parents' case files to know not to exacerbate the situation. Stephen was in control now. He easily outweighted her and Gina by at least forty pounds, not to mention he would have no qualms taking Joy out. Gina he might leave safe, but only if she complied with his fantasy.

_This guy ran over a puppy and beat Brent to a pulp, then killed him,_ Joy thought to herself. _There's nothing he's not capable of._

Then Stephen suddenly jumped to his feet. "Hey, Gina, would you like to see something?" He practically skipped over to a drape-covered wall and yanked the drape away to reveal what Joy's father would call 'The Creepy Stalker Wall of Photographs.' Pictures of Gina training, walking, on her phone, at her house, with her parents, with friends, with Scooter, with Brent -

Joy looked closer. All the pictures of Gina with Brent had been altered - Stephen's face had been plastered over Brent's, replacing the boy. And Scooter's pictures had red X's over the little white puppy. _He gets rid of the things that distract Gina from tennis practice, _Joy realized. _Her dog, her boyfriend - _

"Are you Gina's friend?" Stephen asked suddenly, breaking through Joy's thoughts. He was watching her a little manically, as though he was ready to snap. A glance at Gina saw that the other girl was terrified. Gina was also palming one of the butter knives, so she wasn't so scared that her brain stopped working.

Joy spoke carefully. "She's my lab partner. We talk occasionally."

"About?"

"Most recently? You." She pretended to be intrigued. "I mean, the depth of your love is astounding. I've never seen anything like it."

Stephen puffed up. "Yes. I would do anything for Gina' well-being. I love her."

"So, would you even tell her what happened between you and Brent two days ago?" Joy asked gently. "I mean, so she'll understand exactly what you've done for her."

Gina's eyes went horrified-wide. Behind Stephen's back she kept mouthing _Please no, please don't do this._

"Monday," Joy prodded. "You were taking more pictures of Gina as she practiced."

"She looked like an angel in her white uniform," Stephen said dreamily. He walked towards his wall of photos and touched a group lovingly. "Then that bastard Brent showed up. He demanded that I leave. Me! That pompous ass." He scowled at the memory. "He punched me, but he misjudged my strength. I gave him a run for his money."

"But the way he was found - "

"I had a statue that I wanted to give Gina. It was a pretty marble angel that used to belong to my mother." Stephen rubbed his hands, as if scrubbing them clean. "I had to bloody it! I didn't want to, but I was so mad! He screamed as I hit him again and again and - " Then his hands clenched into fists. "Then he stopped moving. I saw Gina coming closer, and I got scared, so I quickly lit his clothes on fire with my lighter. Then I got worried when she screamed, so I ran off."

Gina stood up, holding the butter knife at her side like a serial killer in a movie. "So.......you killed him......because of me?" Tears were pouring down her cheeks, completing her mask of shocked sorrow. "You killed Brent?"

Stephen held up his arms protectively, like he was scared she'd run him through. "You don't understand! I did it for us!" He crossed to the bureau and yanked open a drawer, pulling out a gun. Immediately Joy gestured to Gina to drop her knife. The girl was scared, but complied.

A shadow crossed the window towards the back door. Joy saw her father's visage looking through the window. She made a _hold _motion with her fist and stepped to the side, positioning herself to force Stephen to circle around to keep her in front of him. Surruptitiously she palmed her Swiss Army knife and flicked the smaller blade open with her nail.

"Stop moving!" Stephen ordered, pointing the gun at Joy. "Just stay there. Stay."

"Stephen, you've hurt Gina," Joy said calmly, using what little profiling she had learned from listening to Sweets' psycho-babble, as her mother liked to call it.

"It's so hard," he whined, waving the gun around as he turned to talk to Gina, who was pressed against his photo-plastered wall. "It's just so hard making sure that everything works out perfectly for you. I do what I can, Gina. I do, but it's just not enough."

Joy tried to keep her voice level. "Stephen, you've hurt Gina. Bad."

"Shut up!" Stephen ordered, pointing his gun solidly at Joy now. "Just shut up! You're not helping."

Gina's choked sobs broke through the tension. The sophomore had sunk to her knees, crying freely. "Just stop it," she whispered brokenly. "Stop, stop, please."

It happened in seconds. The gun clattered to the ground as Stephen tried to comfort Gina. The back door burst open to reveal Booth wielding his gun, expertly training on Stephen as Temperance came in with the handcuffs. Joy's mother tackled Stephen to the ground and handcuffed him before he could realize what happened. More cops entered the house, securing the premises and helping Gina out of the room since her knees were practically jelly.

Joy just watched the proceedings with listless eyes, as if she was just a spectator in a 3D game. When forensic teams began to sweep the house, she went outside and found her mother standing on the sidewalk, watching the hustle and bustle of the police. "Mom, I'm gonna head home, okay?"

Temperance caught the change of note in her daughter's voice. "Joy Christine Booth," she said sternly, "I think you should think very hard on what you are about to do."

_She didn't use any contractions and said my full name,_ Joy thought. _She's being serious. Hoo-boy._ "I have to see Kent, Mom. I need to set this right."

"He may not want to speak to you. Not after such a violation of trust." As usual, Temperace's delivery was blunt and clinical, a scientist's observation. "And you did violate that trust, Joy."

"He kept secrets from me," Joy argued.

Temperance looked at her daughter, raising an eyebrow in a "So?" expression. "And you believe you are entitled to know those secrets? There are some things I never learned about your father until we worked together for several years. I am positive that there are still things he does not want me to know."

"But you want to know everything." Joy frowned, puzzled. Her mother was an investigator. Being a forensic anthropologist and a crime-fighter gave her this urge to learn what happened and how. "Why don't you find out?"

The best forensic anthropologist in the world stroked her daughter's cheek tenderly and said, "Because I know, in time, that he will tell me. I believe in him."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Kent woke up hearing his doorbell ring. Groaning at whoever had disturbed his sleep, he rolled over and glared at his alarm clock. The red digital numbers blinked 2:32 A.M.

Only one person had the privilege to ring Tyler Kent's doorbell at two in the morning and live to tell the tale. Not that he really wanted to see this person at the moment.

It took him two minutes to walk downstairs in the dark and talk through his front door. "Whaddya want, Joy?" he said, purposely not using his nickname for her to show how annoyed he was.

"Can we talk?" Her voice was muffled by the door, but she sounded like a girl confessing to her crush, very shy and a bit scared to be rejected. "Can I come in?"

"We're talking now, and no you can't," Kent replied, not moving to open the door. "What do you want?"

"Why didn't you tell me you're on parole?"

The boy closed his eyes, composing himself before he answered. "I don't have to tell you everything about my life, Joy. You're not my mother or my caretaker."

A small pause, then she said, "I.......I thought we were friends."

_Aw crap,_ he thought, one part ashamed and two parts pissed. He'd known Joy long enought to detect the almost concealed hurt in her voice. One of the worst disadvantages to being Temperance Brennan's daughter was having a very scared outlook on relationships between people. This extended into friendships as well, and with good reason - having a mother who had deep-rooted abandonment issues and a dad with an abusive childhood and sniper background, the very epitomes of lone-wolves, meant that Joy had to try twice as hard to trust people. And if that trust was ever called into question, then all of what she knew was threatened.

She thought she was wrong about them being friends.

Kent yanked open the front door. "Squint, let me - " the apology bubbled out of his mouth before his eyes registered the empty porch. He looked around, trying to see if she was still on the street, but nothing moved in the darkness. Joy was gone.

Mentally smacking himself in the head, Kent looked down at the subpeona in his clenched fist. "Dammit," he cursed under his breath. "Damn you all."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Parker Booth heard the front door slam. Muting the hockey game, he glanced over the couch and saw his kid half-sister walking slowly towards the steps. She looked tired and downtrodden, a stark contrast to her usual self. "Hey kiddo, what's up?"

"Parker?" Even Joy's voice sounded tired and worn out. "I didn't know you'd be back tonight."

"Dr. Bones made mac and cheese. Microwaveable food sucks compared to that." When the mention of her favorite food didn't bring Joy's spirits up, the blond twenty-three-year-old raised his eyebrow. "Dad got pie. Raspberry, your favorite." Still no response. "Geez Squint, what's - "

"I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE, DON'T F*CKING CALL ME SQUINT!!!!"

This shout caused four things to happen in the span of ten seconds. First, as Joy screamed the above sentance, her hand shot out and grabbed the closest thing to herself. It happened to be a glass left out from earlier. Grabbing the glass, she chucked it at Parker's head with deadly accuracy.

Second, it scared the crap out of Parker. He actually jumped off the couch so fast his shin banged into the coffee table, sending him sprawling to the floor in pain. The glass flew over his head, narrowly missing the television and exploded into a shower of shards behind him.

Third, the simultaneous crashes woke up Joy's parents from a dead sleep. Seeley immediately went for his gun, as did Temperance; after a couple close cases he had finally acquiested to his Bones carrying a piece of her own. Together, husband and wife ran down the stairs and trained their weapons on the source of the commotion. They saw Joy in the hallway, Parker on the ground gripping his leg and hissing in pain, and froze, confused.

But the fourth thing to happen was what made everything even worse. Joy suddenly and quite loudly burst into tears, right there in the living room, in front of God and everybody. A wordless wail jumped free of her throat, making even Booth jump in shock. Temperance's motherly instincts kicked in (Yes, she's got some of those now) and she shoved her gun into her husband's hands.

"Joy, shhhhh, it's okay," she said gently, hugging her daughter to allow Joy the shield of an embrace. "Shhhhh, calm down, it's okay. It's all right, honey."

Booth went over to Parker and helped his son up. "Wrong time to tease, Parker," he whispered, guiding his firstborn into the kitchen for some ice.

"Yeah, no duh." The blond young man looked at his father in disbelief. "Dad, what happened? I've never seen her that emotional before, not even when Pops died...."

Booth quickly made an ice pack out of ice cubes in a towel and held it to Parker's rapidly swelling shin. "She went to talk to Kent. Apparently she learned that he's been keeping secrets."

"The chop-shop kid you helped get off jail time?" For a second his eyes narrowed in confusion, then it hit him. "His hearing. Yeah, I heard about that. The head guy is trying to appeal out."

"He didn't tell Joy he was on parole pending his acquittal." The FBI special agent cursed under his breath. "I told her, I told her to stop hanging out with him, but would she listen to me? And now she's like that." He gestured angrily towards the entryway, where Joy's heart-wrenching sobs could still be heard.

Parker stared at him. "Dad, they've been best friends since forever. She couldn't _stop_ liking him just like that." He rolled his eyes. "You didn't when you thought Dr. Bones didn't like you."

Booth scowled, remembering that time. "That's different, Parker."

"Not as much as you think, Dad." Parker listened to his little sister's crying and made a mental note to speak to Kent in the coming days. "I bet you felt the same way Joy's feeling right now."

Back with Temperance and Joy, the forensic anthropologist tilted her daughter's face up so Temperance could wipe the sticky tears away. "You went and talked to him." It wasn't a question.

Joy nodded. "I - I think I was wr-wrong," she choked out, trying to regain control of herself.

"About what?"

Joy hiccuped. "Us being friends. Mom, he......he wouldn't open the door. He w-w-would-d-dn't even l-l-look at me!" Her grip tightened around Temperance's torso as she buried her face again. "Why, Mom? Why does it hurt so much!?" she screamed, her voice muffled by her mother's pajamas.

Helpless, Temperance looked to the kitchen and caught Booth's eye. A silent conversation, primarily her begging for help and him having no reassurances for their daughter, ensued until Temperance's cell phone rang. Without letting Joy go, she reached over and flipped it open. "Brennan."

"_Sweetie? What's the matter? I can hear someone crying......Is that Joy? What happened?! Did they get Booth or Parker?!_"

"Angela? Why are you calling so late?" The last sentances caught her attention. "What about Booth and Parker? They're right here." At the sound of their names the Booth boys came into the living room, worry on their faces. "Calm down and tell me what's wrong," Temperance said clearly into the phone.

There was a long, deep inhale and exhale of breath. "_It's Emily and Jack........Sweetie, they - _"

Joy heard her best friend's name and sniffed once, a long one that cleared her tears away and steadied her. "Emily? What?"

"Angela, what's happened?"

Joy's free-spirited godmother sounded like she herself was fighting tears. "_Emily went out with her father to get some ice cream. Apparently there was an accident - but the other driver didn't stop. The car wrapped around a telephone pole - _"

"Are they all right?" Temperance asked, panicking.

"_They're at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital,_" Angela said. "_Jack's in stable condition, but Emily has a bad head wound. She's been moved to the ICU._"

The next words chilled Joy's blood.

"_The car was tagged by the 666 Devils._"

* * *

**Damn, it ended sad. I didn't want that! Oh well, that means I have to write the next bit!**

**I'm just considering popping out oneshots that can be read stand-alone but also in a consecutive timeline.**

**A.N.**

**Chinese translations (please bear with my cut-and-paste internet translations. Most are courtesy of _Firefly_)**

*** - "SHUT UP, MORONS!"**

**** - "Hello, Mom."**

***** - "Goddamn."**

****** - "Loopy in the head."**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Secret in the 666 (Part Two of Two)**

**By: DemonClowSorceress**

Disclaimer: **_Bones_ **belongs to Twentieth Century Fox. I merely use characters to suit my own storyline.

Part Two in the **Terror of the Two-Part Tragedy** double! Get ready!

Summery: After a very ugly case, Temperance Brennan recieved a call from Angela Montenegro about Jack Hodgins and Emily Hodgins being in a car accident. Who are the 666 Devils that claimed responsibility, and why is Joy so terrified?

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was lulling Joy into a dulled state of shock, but she shook her head to clear it of the clouds of sleep away. Inhaling deeply, she expelled the breath from her nose like a dragon snorting flames at its enemies. And if she knew who had done this to her best friend, the people responsible would have definitely felt her draconic rage.

It had been three hours since Joy's godmother, Angela Montenegro, had called the Booth house with news of the accident. In less than twenty minutes Parker and Joy were pulling into Our Lady of Mercy's ICU entrance while their parents were heading to the scene of the crime.

"_The car was tagged by the 666 Devils._" Those words kept bouncing in Joy's skull, ringing with despair in every echo. She took a long, shuddering breath in and out. "_Tagged by the 666 Devils._"

"Please God, please no," she whispered, trying not to succumb to the panic gripping her insides. "No, not them."

"Kiddo?" Parker poked his head inside the room. "You want anything? A soda or a candy bar?"

Joy shook her head. "No, nothing."

"Okay. Well, someone came to keep you company."

Kent came into the room awkwardly, like he'd been sent to the principal's office. Joy looked at him, her tears stark on her face. Their earlier argument seemed insignificant compared to what had just happened.

He didn't even have to say anything. All he did was stand there and let her run into his arms. Joy poured all her pent-up sorrow and rage with fresh tears that stained Kent's shirt, hugging him tightly without even realizing it.

"I heard from Miss Cam," Kent murmured, rubbing her back as her sobs devolved into hiccups and deep, ragged breaths. "I knew you'd need a friend. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry about - "

"Kent, the 666 Devils tagged the car." Joy felt every muscle in his chest and arms stiffen around her. She looked up at him. "Why? Why would they......" She left the question unfinished, hoping he could fill in the blank spaces.

He took a breath and leaned his forehead against hers. "I didn't think they'd do this," he whispered hoarsely. "I didn't think they'd know. But if they went after Emily....."

Joy waited patiently, oblivious to the fact that their arms were still around each other. It was a 'guy hug' as her parents had called it, and right now it was something she needed.

Kent looked down at her. "My testimony against the chop-shop crew....." he began slowly. "It.......it implicated a couple of the 666 Devils."

"I know that." At his surprised expression she continued, "My dad kept me up-to-date on the trial."

The teenage boy gave a snort. "Did your dad also tell you that my testimony also led to the successful drug bust that involved some of the higher-ups of the Devils?"

Joy stared. No, her father had not. "How did you - "

"People like them tend to forget their hired help has ears," Kent said. "I knew I was in over my head once we got busted, so I sold the information for the highest asking price." He gave a shrug that most people would consider careless. "Turns out it wasn't the best deal, but hey. It was the best I could get without serving time." A lopsided smile graced his face. "Caroline Julian drives a hard bargain."

"Miss Caroline made the deal?" Joy had only heard Miss Caroline's voice over the phone, instantly known for her always calling Joy 'cherie.' Joy only knew the prosecutor as a shadowy figure who sent a present for Christmas and Joy's birthday, called the house occasionally at all hours of the night and day, and who had trained Joy to respond to 'cherie' at a very young age. A hard woman, she was also (so Joy had been told) instrumental in getting her parents the warrants needed to do their jobs.

Kent tapped her shoulder. "Emily," he murmured, directing her attention to the hospital bed.

Joy turned and saw her friend stirring. She left the warmth of Kent's arms and went over to Emily, hopeful as the other girl's eyes fluttered open. "Li?"

"Told you before........don't call me Li....." Emily grunted. Her hand reached up to touch her forehead, but was stopped by the IV in her arm. "Dammit. Did anyone get the license number of the thing that hit me?"

"No, but my parents are investigating the scene of the crash........" Joy stopped talking when she saw the weak wry smile on Emily's face. "Oh, you were being metaphorical."

"Sha zi,"* Emily sighed, settling back on her pillows. Her blue eyes slanted towards Kent in the doorway. "Hey there, handsome. Am I in Heaven?"

Kent sighed as well, exasperated as well as relieved at her attempt at humor. "No, but you are in the capable hands of the ICU staff at Our Lady of Mercy. You gave Squint a bad scare there, Em."

Joy suddenly felt a lot lighter than she had before. Kent called her Squint. Strange, how the usage - or lack of - such a dumb nickname could have such a devastating effect on her. Squaring her shoulders, Joy sat beside Emily's bed and took her hand. "Can you remember anything that happened?"

"Where's my dad?" Emliy asked instead, just realizing that Hodgins wasn't there. "Is he okay?"

"Uncle Jack is okay," Joy reassured her. "He's in stable condition. I need you to tell me what happened. Can you do that?"

Emily nodded, closing her eyes as a wave of pain radiated from the movement. "Yeah. Dad and I went to get some ice cream at the Rita's on Lexington and Fifth......"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Booth surveyed the crime scene, hands on his hips and eyes squinting against the glare of the rising sun and the red illumination from the dying road flares. Hodgins' red and white car was wrapped around a telephone pole, spewing smoke and dripping radiator fluid. The fire had finally been put out, leaving ugly black marks and melted pockmarks on the hood. A huge dent was evident in the passenger side, like a huge fist had smashed itself into the metal. Skid marks showed how Hodgins' toy car had drifted as Hodgins had tried to regain control of the vehicle.

But Booth focused on the particulars of the accident. The other pairs of skid marks - two, to be precise. One of the attacker cars had boxed Hodgins and Emily in while the other T-boned their car. The huge dent in the wreck's side - holding possible paint transfer from the cars that had done this.

And of course, the garish 666 spray-painted over every surface of Hodgins' car.

Brennan shivered beside Booth, not from the cold but from anger. "I'm no use here," she complained. "There are no human remains here. I'm useless."

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to give her a guy hug in front of the entire police force of D.C. "Go comfort Angela," he offered. "I'm sure she'd like some company."

"But I'm no good with emotional words of reassurance," his wife objected.

Booth hugged her. "But she could use a friend."

"Agent Booth?" As usual, husband and wife both looked up when the tech called for the agent. "You're gonna want to see this." He pointed to something that was wedged underneath Hodgins' car. "At first we though it was a pedestrian, but then we saw the tat."

A body was there. Composing herself, Temperance strode over and knelt to shine her flashlight under the car's carriage. "Male, about mid- or late twenties. Severe burns over about sixty percent of his body, including his face. Angela will have to reconstruct the face."

"You said there's a tat?" Booth asked the forensic tech. In response, the man pointed at the corpse's hand. Booth cursed softly. "Yup. A pair of goat horns at the ends of three sixes. Definitely 666 Devils."

Brennan stripped off her gloves. "Bring everything back to the Jeffersonian, including the car. Hodgins can - " She stopped, remembering that Hodgins was in the hospital. "We can get particulate evidence off the doors and the hood, as well as the victim's clothes. I can smell an accelerant other than gasoline, but we'll need to run tests to be sure."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Joy listened to Emily's harrowing tale with a stony expression. The cars had come from nowhere, hitting Hodgins' car so hard that Emily knew she would've died if her seatbelt hadn't been fastened. She remembered seeing a bunch of men surrounding the car after the crash, hearing the rattling _pissssssssssssss _of spray paint cans, and then hearing sploshing liquid and the _fwoosh_ of fire.

"They laughed, Joy," she choked, shaking at the memory. "They almost killed us - maybe they thought they had - but they were defacing my dad's car and they _laughed_."

"Devils are crazy," Kent said, speaking for the first time since Emily began. "Must've been an initiation rite. Sounds just stupid enough." He raked a hand back through his dark auburn, almost brown hair.

Joy glanced back at her friend. "You sound very informed," she said in a neutral tone, "for a chop-shop boy."

"I'm not proud of what I did, but I did it for family." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Joy made to follow, but was stopped by Emily's hand on hers.

"Sweetie, let him be," she whispered. "He feels awful about this, I can tell."

Joy kept Emily company until the other girl fell asleep, then headed out to find Parker for a ride home. Kent was waiting for her by the front desk. With an unspoken agreement, both teens headed for the parking lot and Kent's blue Corvette.

They were driving through early morning D.C. when Kent spoke again. "Don't go anywhere alone."

"And why is that?"

He threw her a look before returning to glare at the road. "Are you serious? The 666 Devils run Emily and Hodgins off the road and you're asking me _why_? Squint, get a clue!"

"Why would the 666 Devils go after Emily when their main goal is taking you out?" Joy noted his tension. "Yeah Kent, I do have a brain. Contrary to popular belief, I can use it. Now talk to me."

He sighed angrily. "Fine. Yes, the Devils wanna take me out because of my testimony. I'm one of the ones who can keep their higher-ups in prison. There, you happy now?"

Joy was silent for the remainder of the ride back to her house. When Kent let her out, she went straight inside and dialed her mother's extension at the Jeffersonian. Temperance answered at the first ring. "_Brennan._"

"Mom, it's Joy. I'm home now, but can I come to the Jeffersonian and help?"

Her mother gave a little cough. "_Joy, I know you wish to assist the case, but I believe the best course of action would be for you to stay home._"

"Fair enough." Joy pursed her lips, thinking. "Have you found out anything about the victim?"

"_Your father ran the dental records, and we do have a match._" The sound of ruffling papers, then a cleared throat. "_The victim was a member of the Devils. Joseph Hollister, also known as Lil' Joey. He disappeared two weeks after giving testimony against the second-in-command of the Devils, Richter 'Earthquake' Montinelli._"

Joy frowned. "Mom......isn't that the same guy Kent testified against?"

"_According to Booth, yes. Hollister was doused in turpentine and set on fire by the heated metal of Hodgins' car. My findings show that he was still alive when they set him on fire._" Temperance stopped for a moment. "_Joy, is Kent there?_"

"No. He went - " Memory flashed; Kent pulling away from the curb, backing around - back towards town. "He went back to D.C."

"_Good. Then he got your father's message._"

"What message?"

Temperance paused. In the pause followed Cam's voice. "_Hey, I just finished my autopsy. Apparently Hollister was tortured._"

"_How did you come to that conclusion?_" Temperance asked, seemingly forgetting about her daughter being on speaker.

"_Bullet wounds to his knees, his feet, and one in the shoulder. There was also a hole in his forehead. The fire damage obscured it._" There was a small clang of metal. "_The others were dug out, but I found this sucker in Hollister's skull._"

"Mom, what message did Dad give to Kent?" Joy asked again, trying not to be freaked by the information. "Where did he go?"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Booth shuffled the papers in front of him. "Tyler Kent, is it true that you were among a group of individuals that ran a chop-shop on West 9th Street that processed vehicles stolen by the 666 Devils?"

"You know it Booth, you were there," Kent retorted calmly.

"That's Special Agent Booth, you little twerp."

One eyebrow raised. "Really? You're correcting my manners now? What are you, my mother?"

Booth decided not to rise to the goading. He was the one with the badge. "You testified in the trial of Richter 'Earthquake' Montinelli as a witness for the prosecution, right?"

"Again, you know the answer to that."

"Your testimony is the only thing keeping him in jail, now that Lil' Joey's charred remains are under the Jeffersonian microscope."

Kent's dark green eyes widened. "Hollister's dead?"

"Found under Hodgins' car, incinerated." Booth watched the young man carefully. "An induction ceremony, maybe? Waste the canary?"

"I didn't participate in anything like that!" Kent snapped.

Booth dropped his hand to bang it on the table. "But you were one of the 666 Devils."

"I wasn't a member!" Kent angrily yanked his shirt off. "You see any horned triple sixes? No. Because I'm not one of them!"

"You chopped their stolen cars."

"For money! So that my brother wouldn't lose his business!" The teenager was practically shaking with anger. "I let the Devils conscript me so they wouldn't torch Greg's auto shop in the dead of night. My brother lives for that shop; it's the only income he's got to take care of Carol."

"His girlfriend," Booth mused, reading the file again.

"She got pregnant, and he married her. I had a nephew on the way. What was I supposed to do?" Kent's hands knuckled up on the interrogation table. "As long I broke those cars down and kept my head low, they wouldn't do anything." Those piercing green eyes locked with Booth's brown ones. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Squint - I'm not proud of what I did, but I did it for family."

Booth couldn't argue with Kent there. If he'd had a choice to make like that, he would've done whatever it took to protect his wife, son, and daughter. "So why squeal on them?"

The teenager's eyes suddenly went flat. He averted his gaze from Booth's, staring instead into the table. "I got sick and tired of people using me," he said.

Booth didn't buy it for one second. _He's hiding something. _"I need an alibi for the time Hodgins' car was attacked."

Kent met Booth's eyes squarely. "Squint stopped by around two-thirty. She stayed for about five minutes, then she left. My brother was asleep, so unless he woke up when she knocked on the door, that's it."

The interrogation room door banged opened. Both males jumped at the sound, then stared as the last person either of them expected stalked into the room.

"Dad, is Kent a suspect?" Joy was plenty pissed at the moment. With her godfather and her best friend in the hospital, her mother investigating the death of a man tied to the same gang Kent had ties to, and her father interrogating Kent, she felt like the world was spinning off its axis and she was completely helpless to stop it. And if there's one thing Joy Booth hated more than anything, it was being helpless when her friends and family were threatened.

Booth got up and steered his daughter out of the room. "Yes, he was. But not anymore. You're his alibi, honey; there's no way he could've been involved with the accident."

Joy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god. So can he go?"

"No." At her puzzled expression her father continued. "He's got to go into protective custody. Undoubtedly the Devils are trying to eliminate him like they did Hollister." Booth hugged her tightly. "Why don't you wait in my office, Joy? I'm gonna finish up in here and meet you there."

"Ok Dad." Casting a quick, worried glance around her father's body, she headed for Booth's office. She flounced into the swivel chair and spun around in it. Bored, she then played with the collection of bobbleheads on the desk.

A file caught her eye. The name Ritcher Montinelli stood out in black ink on the manila. Curious, Joy picked up the folder and leafed through the contents. What she saw took her breath away like a punch to the gut.

The rap sheet for Montinelli was longer than her arm and had more ink than a tattoo parlor. Extortion, prostitution, drug connections, murder, arson, kidnapping - you name it, he had allegedly done it. There were no convictions, with reasons falling under 'insubstantial evidence' to 'key witness disappeared' to 'unable to make case without probable cause.' Montinelli knew how to commit his crimes and he knew how to do it smart, leaving no evidence that directly tied him to his businesses and leaving chumps to take the heat when it came down.

_Until Kent blew the whistle_, she thought, getting angry again. _And now the Devils are striking. __Bastards._

That was how Booth found her five minutes later, a frown creasing her brow as she read over the Montinelli file. "Joy, why on earth are you reading that?" he admonished, hurriedly taking the file away from her. "That stuff can give you nightmares."

"Dad, are you sure it's a good idea to leave Kent in protective custody?" she asked. "It says here that Montinelli was able to whack a key witness in a secret safe house - "

"Stop worrying. Kent'll be fine."

But she shook her head. "Not that I don't trust you Dad, but this guy's bad news. Besides, my gut says this could become a real - " Joy pressed her lips together to a thin line before hashing out, "Fang zong feng kuang de jie."**

"I don't know what you just said, but I bet it was something unpleasant." Booth sighed. "All right, we'll hide him someplace else. Now can you please come along? Mom's making dinner and I want to get there while it's still hot."

Father and daughter headed out of the FBI, but they ran into Kent by the elevator. The two teens didn't speak, still awkward from the earlier argument. Booth felt like a chaperone on an arranged date as the three rode down the elevator into the parking lot. A pair of agents were there with an unmarked car for Kent, who got on without a word. Joy watched him leave with an unreadable expression on her face, then followed her father to the car.

Temperance knew something was wrong when her husband and daughter entered the house. Her sharp blue eyes cut from Booth to Joy and back. "So?"

"He's not involved in the accident, but he's involved in something," Booth said. "He wasn't telling me everything today. But who cares. All I have to worry about now is keeping him alive until Friday when the hearing goes down."

"We got back more information on Hollister's movements before he became crunchy barbeque," Temperance said.

"I think you mean crispy, Mom," Joy corrected.

Her mother nodded thanks. "Angela managed to re-create the bullet wound and got the striations off the bone*** to run through the system. Your people bounced back a name; it's in your e-mail. Also Cam determined that Hollister was tortured and executed prior to being shoved under Hodgins' car and torched."

"Tortured? For what?" Booth asked.

"No idea. We can only assume he held out longer than normal, judging from the amount of trauma to the bones." Temperance handed Joy a glass of soda. "Sweetie, please drink this. You look like you're about to peel over."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Keel over, Bones."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

The peace of the night was broken by the ringing of the phone.

The rules of the Booth house were simple; to avoid grouchiness and chronic insomnia, there was a rotating cycle of who would pick up the phone when it rang at some godforsaken hour in the morning. It just happened to be Joy's turn. Leaving the warm embrace of her bedsheets, the brunette stumbled for the cordless extension and picked it up. "Booth," she yawned.

_"Cherie, put your father on the phone now,"_ came a voice with a familiar Southern accent.

Joy began rubbing her eye to clear it of grit, now waking up. "Miss Caroline?"

"_Now, cherie. Tell him it's urgent._"

Joy took the phone into her father, who grumbled about waking up until he heard who was on the line. He took the phone and asked, "What happened?"

"_Seeley Booth, you've got the devil's luck,_" was her opening line.

"They hit the safe house." It wasn't a question. Temperance sat up, fully awake now. "Any casualties?"

"_As I said before, devil's luck. Your boys are safe; they even got the bad guys in custody._" Caroline sounded very impressed. _"How exactly did you know that Montinelli would hit the house?"_

"Gut instinct," Booth said, looking at Joy. "Anything else?"

"_Yeah, the head man's the owner of that bullet in Crispy Critter's brainpan._" Caroline sounded extremely smug. "_I'll have a conviction on their butts faster than your daughter's best time on the track._"

Booth smirked. "Glad to make your night, Caroline. Good night."

"_But cherie, where is the boy? Your agents never said where they - _"

"Good night, Caroline," Booth said firmly yet teasingly.

Her sigh was heavy, but understanding. "_I get it. Good night, cherie._"

Joy's father gave a small chuckle before handing the phone back to his daughter. "They caught the bad guys. Be a dear and hang that up, then go to bed."

She smiled and kissed her father's cheek. "Night Dad, night Mom." She took the phone and placed it back on the cradle, then headed downstairs for a drink of water.

"What happened?"

Joy jumped a little at the unexpected voice coming from the couch. "Jeezme, Kent. Don't scare me like that."

The teenage boy continued to stare at her, his green eyes reflecting what little light there was from the streetlamps outside. The sheets on the pull-out futon couch were clinging to his body, like he was a mummy fighting free of his bindings. His hair was sticking out every which way, making him look younger than he was. This new, softer Kent was a little vulnurable, unlike the rough chop-shop boy who teased her regularly.

"What happened?" he asked again. Fear was a slight coloring in his voice. "Why won't you tell me?"

Joy took a breath, then went over to him. "Relax. Montinelli tried to whack you, but the safehouse was a trap. They got the guy who capped Hollister." She flashed a brilliant smile at him. "Don't worry. My parents got it covered."

Kent exhaled, a long shaky sigh, and hugged her tight. Joy stiffened at the unexpected contact. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully. "Thanks, Squint."

She hugged him back. "It's nothing Kent. Seriously."

Then Joy woke up a couple hours later and heard something slapping downstairs. Curious, she crept downstairs and called out, "Kent? You okay?"

The living room was empty, the futon sheets rumpled and unmade. The window was open, and the curtains wafted in the breeze.

Kent was gone.

She had her phone open, his speed dial hit, and at her ear before the first dial tone sounded. It rang twice before his tired "_Hello?_" echoed into her ear.

"Kent, where the hell are you?" Joy demanded.

A deep sigh. "_Trust me when I say that it's better that you don't know, Squint._"

"Don't feed me that BS!" she snapped. Cradling her cell on her shoulder, Joy quickly ran back upstairs and pulled on a pair of jeans, throwing a hoodie over her pajama T-shirt. "Tell me where you are, right now!" she demanded, stuffing her feet into her sneakers.

"_Squint, this isn't open for discussion. Now get off the goddamn line._"

"Screw that!" In the background she could hear a set of bells chiming - the door chimes at the pawnshop on 6th and Sweet Road. "I'm coming down there."

"_No Joy, don't you dare!_" But the rest of his refusal was cut off when Joy hung up.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Squint! SQUINT!" Kent scowled as the dial tone droned in his ear. "Dammit. Stupid girl." Snapping his phone shut, he leaned against the brick wall and glanced around the intersection.

The early morning hours in D.C. were always sketchy, especially where he was. Hookers roamed the streets, strutting through the muted streetlights like colorful birds. A couple dealers 'did business' in the darker alleys, servicing their junkie clients. Homeless people squatted on stoops and inside cardboard boxes. All of them reacted the same once the squad car showed up, though. The hookers stopped hooking, the dealers stopped dealing, and the homeless scuttled into their cardboard homes. Kent pulled his baseball cap lower and tried to blend in.

As the car passed, he prayed that Joy hadn't blown the whistle on him. After the call from Miss Caroline, he had snuck out of the Booth home and checked in on his brother's family. Greg and Carol were okay. But they'd recieved a note tacked to their front door.

_**Kent - Corner of 6th and Sweet Road. Come alone.**_

Short and succinct. Just like the unspoken promise. _**And no one else gets hurt. **_Kent rolled his head around on his neck. He was still pissed about the call from Joy, and pissed was not the way he wanted to meet the Devils.

"I didn't think you'd show."

Kent raised an eyebrow in mild shock. "Vesper." The middleman for several deals, Adam Vesper had gone underground after Montinelli was arrested. Word had gone around that he'd squealed to Feds for a deal. Apparently that wasn't true, or else he wouldn't be meeting Kent at that shady street corner.

"Guess you've finally come around," Vesper said with a greasy smile on his face. Kent resisted the urge to sock this scumbag in the mouth. "Good. Now come on, we've got a place to be."

"Whatever you've got to say to me you can say here," Kent said, planting his feet and bracing himself. "Unless you want me to disappear like Hollister did."

Vesper spat on the street. "Hollister flipped. He had to be taken care of."

"And the accident to cover up his torture? There was a federal investigator in that car, asshole!" Given the situation, Kent felt obligated to stretch Hodgins' official title. "If you'd killed that Fed, my ass would've been grass!"

The middleman wasn't fazed. "See, this is why you're green," he said, shoving a finger in Kent's face. "You lack guts, Tyler. Guts to do what has to be done."

"I've done plenty for the Devils." The teenager's voice was cold as liquid nitrogen. "Then I got out."

"No, you flipped on Montinelli." Vesper's demeanor changed. "That takes guts, but also comes with consequences. You remember our arrangement?" With a flick of his finger to the brim, Vesper knocked Kent's cap off. "Remember what you said, Tyler?"

Slowly the boy nodded. "I keep my nose out of it, and you wouldn't hurt them."

"Very good. But see, now you're gonna spill." Vesper seemed to ramble, pacing in front of Kent like a stalking lion. From the corner of his peripheral, Kent could see men slinking out of the dark alleys and heading closer. The squad car was long gone. The other denizens of the night had cleared out - everyone knew something was going down. "Now, you're thinking of telling, aren't you?"

"It had crossed my mind." _No sense lying now,_ he reasoned.

Vesper wagged his finger. "A dangerous game is what you're playing, Tyler. Remember that if you tell, you'll be endangering your family."

"Nice try, jackass, but my brother and sister-in-law are in protective custody." More lying. He was surprised his nose wasn't growing faster than mold in a shower room right now.

Now he was completely surrounded. Vesper was beginning to grin like a doped nutcase. "You think we'd buy that? Feds don't give protective custody to the family of a third-rate chop-shop brat."

"Okay first, I was the best chop-shop boy you had," Kent snapped. His professional pride settled, he continued. "Second, Feds give protective custody to those who give good testimony. Especially to those who put away high-ranking gang bosses."

"Which, unfortunately, has made you _persona non grata _among the Devils," Vesper said with mock regret. The surrounding goons began to pull out weapons.

Kent had to crack a joke. "Since when do you know Latin, Vesper? Lemme guess - altar boy."

"Cocky little - " But Vesper stopped mid-curse and smiled again. A greasy smile that Kent didn't like one bit. "I think we can resolve this matter peacefully. Cordially, in fact."

"Isn't it a bad idea to use your entire vocabulary in a single sentance?" Kent quipped, trying to calm himself. _Not good. Vesper's never this calm unless he has an ace in the hole._

"Perhaps you need..........some persuasion," Vesper practically purred, sounding like a grating car transmission.

Kent tried very hard to look nonchalant. "Persuasion?" He did not like where this was heading.

"That pretty little thing you hang out with a lot. The Fed's daughter.......what was her name?"

"Booth," supplied one of the meatheads with a knife behind Vesper.

The weasely man snapped his fingers. "Right! Joy Booth. Child of the famous Special Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. Sweet kid." The smile grew even more sinister. "Maybe the boys would like to meet her."

_And there's the unveiled threat, _thought Kent. _Crude, inelegant, and blatantly obvious. And it's done its work. It has pissed me off._

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Montinelli the day he threatened me with that same thing," Kent said. "Pay attention."

One thin eyebrow rose on Vesper's face. "Oh? What is it?"

"If anything happens to her," he said slowly, deliberately stressing every word, "I will find you, and I will kill you. I won't think twice. This is between you and me. Nobody sees, nobody knows."**** The way he spoke promised that he said every word with conviction.

Vesper laughed, but it was forced. "Oh really? And what if something _does _happen?"

A feral wolf-like snarl twisted his features into a contorted mask of rage. "You touch Joy, and I promise this. I'll hunt you down, tie you up, and feed you through the same variety of machines I used to chop cars."

The rest of the middleman's sputtering was cut off by the loud VROOOM! of an incoming vehicle. Headlights blasted the darkness to shreds, causing the assembled Devils to shout and try to make a break for freedom. Squad cars shot into the street, cutting off all exits. Uniforms, cops and Feds, poured from the alleys with their weapons drawn, shouting at the gang members to lower their weapons.

Kent was momentarily stunned. A split second after the streaks cleared his eyes, he realized that he may be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Checking if any of the cops or agents saw him, the teenage boy began to edge towards the alley in a hope to avoid detection.

"Tyler!"

That shout killed any thought of running. He'd know that voice anywhere. "Squint?" he called, trying to see her through the confusion of light, arrests, and bodies. "Squint!"

A petite form slid and dodged the bigger adults' bodies to come racing into Kent's arms. He caught Joy and held her close, surprised that she had actually found him. "I told you not to come, dammit," he whispered. "Why don't you ever listen?"

"Be grateful, you idiot," she grunted back, pulling away from him. "I called in the whole damn cavalry before hopping on my bike to make sure you were okay." A grin brightened up her pale face; she'd been really worried, Kent realized. She called him Tyler just now. She never did that, not unless she was really freaked. It was then that he realized exactly how badly Vesper's threat had scared him.

Agent Booth came up on what was turning into a very cute moment and managed to ruin it in record time. "Kent, you mind explaining what's going on here?"

The boy looked up at the father of his best friend. "Ambush, Agent Booth. They threatened my family."

The FBI ex-sniper nodded. "All right then. Joy, take him back home please? Your mom's waiting until you get back."

Joy nodded and tried pulling Kent along, but Kent spotted Vesper being led to a nearby squad car in handcuffs. Motioning to Joy to wait, he went over to the middleman.

"Montinelli will have your ass by noon!" he yelled as the teenager approached.

"You got nothing to prove to me, Vesper," Kent retorted. "Now if you don't mind, I'll leave first because I have somewhere I have to be."**** He leaned forward and whispered into the man's ear, "Remember - nobody sees, nobody knows."

Joy was waiting by her bike when he returned. "What did you say?" she asked.

He smiled weakly, blinking as the flashing police lights moved to transport their criminal cargo. "Nothing," he said, sitting on her bike despite her protests. "Get on the back wheel. I'll drive you home."

Joy looked like she wanted to continue interrogating him, but a yawn interrupted her. With a resigned sigh she stood on the back wheel axel and held onto his shoulders as Kent pedaled back to her house.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Friday came, and with it, Richter "Earthquake" Montinelli's final appeal. Joy waited outside with her mother, fidgeting in the car and twitching like an ADHD child hopped up on sugar and caffeine.

"Joy, it's not going to go any faster if you keep staring at the clock." Temperance chided her daughter gently, knowing the weight of the trial's outcome was stressing Joy out. "I'm sure Kent's testimony will be factual and that the board will understand his reasons."

"What could he possibly know?" Joy asked. She'd asked Kent the same question before they'd gone to bed the night of the arrests, and again all the next day, and this morning before he'd been picked up to be escorted to the courtroom.

Temperance looked at the building. Her pale blue eyes seemed to will the stones invisible, as if she could actually see into the courtroom. "We will learn soon, Joy. We will learn soon."

Joy fidgeted with her hands. She recalled earlier that morning when Kent had gotten ready in the Booth house just before the agents had arrived to take him away..............

_"Do you really have to do this?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I mean, testify again. Don't they have it on file?"_

_"Montinelli's called my testimony into question," he replied, attempting to tie the plain navy tie around his neck. "I have to give it again and deal with his crap. Don't worry Squint, I won't trip up." He flashed a smug smile. "That jackass won't have any way in to tear me apart." _

_The tie failed to lie flat, and Kent reacted like a spoiled child. "Dammit!" he snapped, clawing at the too-tight knot until it resembled a misshapen lump of fabric. "Screw it!"_

_Joy sighed and pushed his hands away from the mess. "Calm down," she said, applying her own hands to unravel the tie. "You're too impatient. It takes practice and skill to tie a necktie properly."_

_"Of which I have little to none," grumbled the chop-shop boy._

_Looking up to him, Joy replicated the smug smile he'd given her only minutes before. "And that's why you have me, Kent," she replied sweetly, pulling the tie apart in one yank._

_Kent gave a smirk as well. "What would I do without you?" he joked._

_"Look like a defective moron in front of a board of appeal," she jested, tying the necktie correctly. When it looked perfect, she didn't let go, instead fiddling with the knot to keep it perfectly centered. "Kent, what is this testimony? What could be so important that it halted your sentancing?"_

_It was like watching a sunset. Kent's expression changed slowly, losing the humorous glow and turning serious as death. "You don't need to know, Squint," he said, taking her hands in his and pulling them away from his tie. "Trust me." He blinked and looked at their joined hands, then dropped hers with a slight blush. "Look, I'll tell you what happened afterwards, okay? Just let it alone."_

Temperance watched as her daughter's frame relaxed against the backseat of the car. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah Mom, I'm fine," Joy replied. A tiny smile curled one side of her mouth. "Because I know, in time, that he will tell me. I believe in him."

The forensic anthropologist smiled as well when she realized Joy had quoted her from before. "Exactly."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%~~~~~~~~****%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Well, that was annoying," Kent said, rolling his shoulder in the socket to stretch out the kinks. "That stupid witness stand is really uncomfortable."

"I don't care how much it hurt, I'm just glad there were no inconsistencies," Caroline Julian said, fanning herself with the case file. "Now Big Bad Earthquake can go rot in jail until they bury his bones."

Booth put a hand on Kent's shoulder, stopping the teenager from leaving the courthouse. "Kent, can I have a word?"

"What's up?" Kent asked, for once not cocky or disrespectful.

"Is that true, what you said up there?" Booth asked. "He threatened Joy?"

Kent's eyes went cold. "Yeah," he breathed, as if trying to restrain his anger. "It was two days before the bust, and I wanted out. He threatened to kill my family, but I knew Greg could slither out before any harm was done. But Squint - " He shook his head and locked gazes with Booth. "I wasn't about to put her in danger."

"So you threatened him."

"Wouldn't you?"

_I would, and I have. _The FBI agent fixed his stare on Kent. "Give it to me straight, for once. What did you say to Montinelli just then? Because he looked pale as a ghost."

Kent thought back after the appeal board had ruled against Montinelli and the court had let out.......

_"This isn't over," snarled the former second-in-command of the 666 Devils as Kent walked past him. "I'll have my revenge, you chop-shop brat. I'll have your family and your little girlfriend killed, and you'll know it was me. You'll know it was your fault."_

_With a charming smile, Kent leaned closer to the dangerous, albiet shackled, criminal. "You willing to risk your life?" he whispered. "Because Special Agent Booth - " he pointed to the FBI agent waiting by the back door, who brushed his suit jacket back to reach for his sidearm, "is her dad, and he's a crack shot. So don't." __Green eyes locked with the cold eyes of the gang leader. "Or you'll regret it."_

_"What can he possibly do?" Montinelli scoffed, paling at the mention of the famous agent's name._

_Kent's grin was cold and malicious. "You really don't want to know."_

"Kent?"

The boy blinked, realizing he'd been thinking deeply about what had happened. "Oh, I just reminded him how much people inside hate his guts," he replied before changing the subject. "Is my brother here?"

"Yeah, he should be outside with Bones and Joy." Booth steered Kent outside where, sure enough, both of their families were eagerly awaiting the news. With them were the Hodgins, Jack and Emily having been discharged from the hospital, and the Jeffersonian team. Everyone swarmed around Kent and Booth, asking a dozen questions at once.

It was later, after much celebrating at the Founding Fathers restaurant and toasts to Kent's bravery and the closing of another case, that Joy and Kent finally got some alone time in the park to talk. They took their customary swings and rocked back and forth as Kent told her everything - well, everything except his threatening of a dangerous criminal boss. And on her behalf. She would've decked him.

"So, no sentance for you?" Joy asked at his tale's conclusion.

He nodded. "Nope. Just another month of parole and I'm home free." He stood up and held his hand out to her. "C'mon Squint, I'll walk you home."

She took his hand and followed him down the street. "No more gangbangers lookin' to jump you?" she half-teased.

The redheaded boy laughed. "Nope. Not anymore." He added in an undertone, "Not after what I warned Vesper would happen if they did....."

"What?"

"Nothing." He grinned again. "Let's go, I'm cold."

Joy sighed. "You're such a baby. It's not that cold out." At that moment, she chose to shiver. Kent shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She grabbed at the lapels and argued, "I don't need it!"

"Yeah right. Your teeth are chattering."

"Kent, take it back! You just said you were cold."

"I'll survive. My shirt has longer sleeves."

"I'm not a weakling!"

"But if you get a cold, your dad's gonna blame _me_."

".........Yeah, that's true."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

"..........."

"I'm glad you're okay, Kent."

"So am I, Squint. So am I."

* * *

**I had to give Kent some epic Booth lines. They're just great lines to give the bad guys!**

**A.N.**

**Again, Chinese is from _Firefly._**

*** - "Idiot."**

**** - "A knot of self-indulged lunacy."**

***** - First mentioned in Season 1, Episode 15 "Two Bodies in the Lab."**

****** - said by Booth in Season 1, Episode 13 "The Woman in the Garden."**


End file.
